Correcting The Record
by LadyLorri
Summary: The missing scenes from the end of 1x09. Laurel gets home late after her conversation with Gareth.
1. Chapter 1

Laurel's apartment felt empty. Emptier than it had felt even the nights she'd kicked Gareth out. There was a sense of finality, of fatalism, that although she decided they should take a break, that break was a break _up_. And she didn't like it.

She dropped her bag by the table and shrugged off her coat – chucking it across a vacant chair – and headed straight for the red wine she'd meant to drink with Gareth last evening. She murmured curses at herself as she poured herself a glass, she murmured curses at him between mouthfuls of wine.

"Fuck," she eventually said audibly. She slumped down on the couch and gazed into her drink. She couldn't rationalise anything that had happened in the previous three days, but she was pretty sure none of it was bug-related. Unless their new way of avoiding their hosts having sex was to cause them to argue nonsensically. Was it even within the reach of alien bugs to create the concept of a prior sexual relationship with Michael Moore? Republicans – yes. But space bugs?

Laurel took another swig of her drink before she placed the glass down on the coffee table. Finally kicking off her shoes, she tipped her head back, covering her face with her hands.

Gareth's behavior had been inexcusable. He was acting like a little boy who couldn't let something go, but wasn't brave enough to be honest about it – only wrap it in excuses of political ideology and go on the offensive with smugness and disdain. And he'd tried to shame her. Gareth, the guy all too happy to jump into bed with her while she was drunk and going on about brain bugs, was squeamish at what was actually an incorrect number of past sexual partners.

The first part was down to stupidity, the second was being hypocritical and mean.

She finally sat upright again, blood rushing to her head as she righted herself. She was angry. He had tried – and failed – to make her feel small, whether that was his original intention or not. But despite this anger, she felt as empty as her apartment. As brief as the romantic part of her relationship with Gareth had been, Laurel already missed it. In the space of three days it had fallen apart, their friendship was all but certainly over, and the increasing tension between their bosses would put them directly at odds without a glimmer hope in the outside world.

Contemplating this, her eyes casually skimmed the coffee table: her laptop. Her work. LA.

Her life.

Her life without politics, and bugs, and bug-controlled political dynasty family members. Laurel could just go. Sure, she wouldn't have the money from her dad to pay for her film, but she could ask Luke for help given the time she had put in to his office, and get a job in California in the meantime to raise some of the funds. It wasn't impossible – she had options. Her crowd-funding source still had some way to go before it would be anywhere near matching what she needed, however. Maybe it was time for a fresh start altogether. Maybe she could go to London or New York. A fresh city with fresh ideas and completely new projects which she might be able to get funding for.

As Laurel reached the end of her positive, productive train of thought, she wondered why she still felt so low. Her vision re-focused on the almost-finished glass of wine on the table. A kind of blunted pain had taken up residence in her chest as her mind wandered back to Gareth leaving her office rejected, dejected, with his ever smitten eyes clouded in sadness and regret.

 _Goodbye._

She picked up her wineglass and downed the rest of the liquid. She stood up off the couch, just managing to avoid tripping over her shoes, and meandered back to the kitchen to leave her glass. Remembering that she hadn't checked her phone in some time, she looked to see if her brother needed her for anything. A small part of her hoped for an apologetic text or answerphone message from Gareth, but her screen was blank, save for the clock showing it was one am. She had been sitting there for hours.

As she stripped to shower, she fought hard against the pleasant memories of the planetarium. He had wanted her: she had wanted him. She stood under the shower, the water pouring over her head and down her face. No one would have seen the tears as she cried them. Frustration. Regret. Heartache. True anger. She couldn't pinpoint the dominant emotion, but she was sure they were all represented.

The tears subsided as she washed herself and shampooed her hair, but the pain in her chest could not be shifted. She continued to feel it as she finished towel-drying her hair and donned her robe. Sleep would not come easy that night.

Forgetting about her hair, Laurel changed, grabbed her coat and her bag and headed out the door. She couldn't leave it like this.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This was pure catharsis after that dreadful ending. I was so upset after it aired, I had to fix it. Thank you for the kind comments on the first chapter. This one is the monster chapter! And it had to be updated before we get 1x10, which will ruin it all. But this is how 1x09 should have ended.

* * *

Before she could stop to think about what she was doing, Laurel found herself at Gareth's apartment building, chapping on his door. He answered it wearing the same outfit as she'd left him in, although a little more disheveled, his tie half undone and several shirt buttons open. It looked like he had been drinking, too. He was surprised to see her.

"Hey," he said, cautiously. Awkwardly. "I… I didn't think I'd see you… at," he looked at his watch. "Two am. At my apartment…"

"We need to talk," Laurel interjected before the awkward rambling continued. He stepped aside, letting her in. As much as he wanted to, he refrained from touching her. The permission to do that had been rescinded.

"Do you want a drink?" He asked, trying to sound casual as he directed her to the couch.

"Oh, yes," Laurel replied, knowing she'd probably need something to get her through this conversation. She sat down, watching him walk away from her again. She couldn't stop the pang of regret as she thought of how that strong, toned body had belonged to her not twelve hours ago.

Gareth returned to the couch with two opened beers, handing one to her as he tentatively sat at the other end of the seat. He shuffled his feet slightly to find a solid position and turned to face her.

The silence was deafening.

"So…" He began.

"So…" She echoed.

A few tense seconds past.

"We need to talk?" He asked, questioning her statement at the door.

"We do," Laurel replied, knowing this would be more excruciating than trying to explain the salami sex. "I think one of two things has to happen: we either sort this relationship out like adults," she saw a small, hopeful smile creep across his lips. "Or we clear the air and move on so we can still work together." His smile dropped, as he saw nothing but a neutral expression on Laurel's face giving both options.

"Which one do you want?" Gareth asked with unmistakable sadness in his voice.

"That depends on what you want-"

"I want _you_ ," he said, cutting her off. "You."

"You do know what that means?" Laurel asked him, in full seriousness.

He looked somewhat quizzically at her.

"You have to trust me," she began. "You need to stop your oppo research into me, or at least not believe what you read before you ask – and truly ask, not judging me on what your boss – who hates me, remember? – shows you. In fact, stop judging me altogether on my past." She was starting to get angry. She stopped and took a drink of her beer before continuing in a calmer manner. "And even if I had slept with someone you had issues about-"

"But-" he went to interrupt her, but she waved him away.

"Then talk to me about it. Rationally. Don't accuse me, or try to make me feel stupid or dirty. Because that's what it felt like you were doing."

Gareth reached over to touch her arm, but she gently shrugged him off. "I accept your politics at the office, but away from there I don't want held up to unvoiced conservative standards. You've yet to be entirely conservative with our sex life, so why does it matter about my _past_?" She realised she was ranting, but after today this had to be said.

At this final point, Gareth dropped his head. "You're right, he said. "You're right. I shouldn't have gotten mad, or believed that information straight away. I wish I'd never even looked at that file – it ruined everything."

Laurel began to get irked at him missing the point.

"If I had slept with those twenty-four guys – and Michael Moore – and had an abortion would you still want me now?"

The pause Gareth took before answering was too long to satisfy Laurel's need to know he wanted any version of her, not one he created in his head. She put down her barely-touched beer, picked up her bag and headed for the door.

Gareth shot up, holding out his free hand in an attempt to stop her leaving.

"Laurel, wait," he pleaded. He turned as she passed him. "Laurel," he tried again, but she didn't stop. "I never _didn't_ want you," he said as she was reaching the door.

She twirled round to once again face him. "Even when you thought it was true?" She asked in a distrustful tone.

"Even when I thought it was true," he confirmed, sounding defeated. He placed his beer bottle on the table and closed the physical space between them. When he hesitantly reached across the small distance to take her hand, he saw a slight softening of her face, but her eyes stayed resolute. She allowed his hand to slip into hers, something Gareth hadn't completely expected. "I can't completely disregard my values, but neither can you – that's kinda why this works." He almost chuckled as he ran his thumb across the back of her hand. "How can I make this ok again?" He asked earnestly.

"Take me for what I am. I have probably done stuff before I met you that you don't agree with, but all that has made me _me_ , and if you really do want me, you'll need to accept it. Just as I'll have to accept things you did. Because no amount of effort could make us work if we can't."

Gareth gazed down to their joined hands and squeezed gently before looking back at her.

"No hang up is worth losing you again. This was awful," he replied.

Laurel carefully lowered her bag to the floor and caught Gareth's other hand, looking into his stunningly blue eyes. "I agree," she said, glancing fleetingly at his lips before returning to their locked gaze. "Can we make it better now?"

His kiss was like that first night in the bar; sweet, slow, cautious… still somewhat unsure of what was happening. It was as if this conversation had been a bubble, and Gareth kissing her with emotion fuelled by relief, regret, lust and lingering pain would cause it to burst; if he showed the true extent of his feelings, Laurel could change her mind and he'd be crushed.

Consequently, it was Laurel who uncoupled their hands and pulled him in closer. Gareth wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tight until a natural break occurred in their kiss. Laurel looked at him in mock seriousness.

"You know you still owe me a homemade dinner?"

He smirked back at her. "Why don't we make it breakfast?"

She laughed as she spun out of his hold and pulled him by a belt loop further into his apartment.

*****Roll credits*****


End file.
